


The End of an Era

by Spark_Writer



Series: Human Error [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M, Pining!Sherlock, Unrequited Love, Uses The Sign of Three and His Last Vow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-25
Updated: 2014-05-25
Packaged: 2018-01-26 11:51:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1687301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spark_Writer/pseuds/Spark_Writer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“It’s the end of an era,” says Mycroft.</p><p>And the world lists on its axis.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The End of an Era

 

i.                  "It's the end of an era," says Mycroft.

 

And the world lists on its axis.

 

Not true, thinks Sherlock, this is merely the beginning of a new sort of adventure (perhaps not so frankly ridiculous as before, but still bloody glorious)

 

ii.                Meanwhile, his stomach rolls with sharp-pronged butterflies and adrenaline syntheses with his blood and he is furious, wobbly, on the edge of a tremendous abyss, itching to close his fingers round the skin at the back of John’s neck and drag him close—

 

iii.         “ _You_. It’s always you. John Watson, you keep me right.”

 

Sherlock walks forward as he speaks and John, small, lovely, luminous John, pushes himself out of his seat and asks,

 

 

“What do you need me to do?”

 

 

iv.             I need, he thinks, for you to open your eyes and observe the evidence. It’s all there, John, all this time, all for you.

 

The final proof.

 

 

v.                 “There’s something I’ve mean to say, always,” he says later, on the tarmac. His breath hitches in his throat and the clock seems to slow, trapping him in this horribly slothful progression of time. John inhales sharply, frowns, lifts his chin to look straight into Sherlock’s eyes and everything is very, very bright.

 

vi. "Sherlock is actually a girl's name."

 

He watches John’s somber expression dissolve into laughter, laughter and a fabricated flicker of regret (side effect of a mind addled by unrequited feelings, by human error, by love).

 

vii. "The game is never over," he assures John.

 

It is, though. It died a quiet death somewhere in the cracks between a faked suicide, a return from the dead, a scarred friendship, a woman with blonde hair, a smile like gunfire, and eyes only for John, a bullet through the chest, Sherlock’s hand closing around the Browning in John’s right pocket, applied pressure to the trigger, a man with the initials CAM crumpling, collapsing, falling; dead before meeting with the ground.

 

 

viii. "To the very best of times."

 

They part, and the threesome shatters.

 

John, Sherlock, and their shared oblivion.

 

 

 


End file.
